Let Me Squeeze the Flowers

Good-Bye Sweet Ceci

There are times in life when words fail the only task they have. There are times when what is spoken by the heart refuses to be homogenized by words. It is then that we are reminded that words do not exist for everything we feel. We are, in these times, reminded that love gives greater allegiance to the heart than it does to language. Knowing so, does not keep effort from our want.

Our hearts can only gasp in quiet desperation as they scream without a voice through the invisible silence. How can words ever write completely that which they cannot read completely? Expressing now, how much we love you, that we always have and that we miss you, fails the heart that wants to say so much more than God ever gave it gift to say.

There are times in life when the tears that beg our cheeks simply fall wet upon the words that have no voice to carry what we feel. We know instinctively however, that as the veil is lifted, you will hear our hearts. You will hear them screaming through the resounding silence that once kept them wrapped in hopeless, insufficient words. You will hear them because where you are today, can speak and hear of even the whispers in our hearts. It is a language which God has given to the place where angels dwell.

We will grieve because the heart knows no other way but to keep on screaming. It doesn’t know how to surrender the want of you. If our hearts could have spoken, if love had not been left to the insufficiency of words, surely, it would have been enough to keep you with us. Instead, we listen for the whisper of angel wings hovering above our sleep. Then we will know that you were there, that our hearts spoke of love in a place where words do not exist, a place where hearts never again have any need to scream.

We are left with a haunting sadness, but even more, we are left with a garden which God has seeded from your heart to ours. As the seed roots, we begin to heal. Love tends to our losses in such a way. It tills the soil within our hearts with memories, it flowers our fields with lingering glimpses of yesterday and it blooms all our days without the need of season. God plants such gardens to soften loss, knowing that we will squeeze from every flower, the beauty that was you.

Comments 3 comments

bigj1969 profile image

bigj1969 20 months ago from glasgow

Excellent hub,beautifully worded.


Nellieanna profile image

Nellieanna 18 months ago from TEXAS

You are right. There are no words sufficient to express your loss, pain and anguish, nor to express my empathy for it. Perhaps - no, surely - Ceci is now free of her pain and grief, for her pain had to be intense and it must have grieved her mightily to feel herself a burden to others.

I read your beautiful words in her memory with tears streaming down my cheeks. You cared so deeply and felt it with such clarity. Though they could not fully express all you feel wordlessly, so much comes through from your abundant heart in and between your words, and touches mine.

I’m glad Mary Craig’s recent comments on one of my older hubs about our collaboration project and how we’ve held each of the 16 in our hearts has led me here this morning or I mightn’t have read your eulogy to Sweet Ceci. I always think of you and mention you in my prayers. It’s self-serving in that it bestows a soothing effect on me, almost magically.

But I hadn’t been checking your hub page often as previously in hopes of a rare appearance. Further, my activity online was physically curtailed April 10th when I took a bad fall down an incline on the side of my house which sprained both wrists. That was a blessing, though, because the wrists broke my fall enough to keep my head from crashing full-force into my neighbor’s brick wall. Healing is still in process, but when I think of the possible danger to my entire body that was miraculously avoided, I’m shouting, “Thank you, Lord”, aloud frequently. And what a learning, humbling experience, as well. Reminder of the fragility and preciousness of life.

Fingers remained limber enough to type, but quickly made it clear that rapid 10-finger typing as I normally do hurt the wrists and set back their healing. So I’m one-finger typing, and limitedly, that.

The wrists again took the brunt of a second, less severe fall flat on my face when my foot caught in the bedcovers as I was getting up a couple of weeks later, setting back progress. But progress continues! Every day more capabilities emerge. Learning once more fuller awareness and appreciation of little things usually taken for granted.

Theresa Ast is in Dallas visiting relatives and will stop by tomorrow for a little visit with me! She came last year and we enjoyed a delightful visit here. I’m really looking forward to it! She is such a dear.

Take heart and take care of you and yours, dear Alan. Many people love you and thirst to read your enchanting words, whenever you can bestow them.

Hugs, and love, Nellieanna.


phdast7 profile image

phdast7 7 months ago from Atlanta, Georgia

Oh Alan, I am so, so sorry.....there are no words ... as you penned, so many anguished thoughts and feelings, but no words sufficient to fully express the great grief. I am praying.

--Theresa

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